


Look what you made me do

by raging_fire



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, POV Cassian (ACoTaR), cassian finally snapped, nesta is a wreck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 20:53:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16878996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raging_fire/pseuds/raging_fire
Summary: Cassian accidentally breaks Nesta's nose during soccer practice, unleashing hell for the both them.He didn't think it would also lead to an angry confession on his behalf, which ultimately lead him into a pit of despair and misery.





	1. Chapter 1

  
Flipping page after page under the warm morning sun, Nesta devoured her book with little to no awareness of what was going on around her. She was pretty sure that she missed the third period, but the only chemistry she needed right now was that between the protagonists of the book, who finally, finally started acknowledging their feelings for each other. About damn time.

After finishing another chapter, Nesta took a little break to reach into her bag thrown on the grass for her water bottle. The green area next to the soccer field served as her gateway from classes -- not that she didn't like school, but from time to time she needed a break from studying. The only things that brought her relief these days were books and TV series. Missing a couple of classes were worth it, especially when she could spend them under a tree with a book between her hands.

Drinking, Nesta glanced towards the soccer field, almost chocking at the sight unfolding before her eyes. The players gathered in their full gear, running in circles and howling like a pack of rabid coyotes, a ritual of theirs before every practice. The benches slowly filled with students eager to watch the school's golden team prepare for their long-awaited national game, their only chance of winning a prize (for the first time in the school's history, which was a little bit pathetic).

Nesta didn't recognise any of the guys beside her younger sister's boyfriend, Rhysand, the team's striker, and his childhood friend and foster brother, Cassian, the team captain and central midfielder. Her gaze lingered a while longer to see them start the game, charging like bulls, fast like arrows. God, they annoyed her so much.

Nesta plugged in her earphones, not wanting to be disturbed by their yapping and shouting, and returned to her book. Even the coach's whistle could give her a headache.

Enthralled once more by the story, Nesta lost herself in the wonders of the fantasy world she was currently visiting, loosing all sense of space and time. Running her fingers across the smooth pages, Nesta marvelled at the impact stories could have on her. How little it took to make her cry or laugh; how, even though a book ended, the story kept going on in her head for weeks afterwards. How happy she was to escape her daily life, even for a few stolen moments.

Gaping at the sudden reappearance of a character who was supposed to be dead and done, Nesta started turning the page -- until a strong object collided with her face, bones sundering and teeth singing. A soccer ball.

What the...

Book dropped and vision blurred, Nesta had half a mind to touch her face and make sure everything was in place -- and it was, although her nose was hurting like hell. A warm liquid trickled down her arm when she pulled it back, then her face, entering her mouth. Blood.

Nesta blinked, astounded at the sight of blood on her hand, flooding her mouth.

"Holy crap, Nesta, I'm so, so sorry! I didn't see you!"

Slowly, as if in a daze, Nesta looked up at the speaker.

She could swear the blood gushing from her nose flowed faster at the sight of Cassian, eyes wide in fear, panting like he ran a marathon.

The others started approaching, though they kept their distance from them. One of the guys ran to the school campus, no doubt to fetch their coach or a nurse.

"Nesta? Are you alright? Here, let me help you--"

Nesta kneeled and spat a mouthful of blood on the grass, trying to wipe the one on her face, but it kept pouring and pouring, filling her mouth, coating her face and clothes. How blood did a human being have?

_Why won't you stop please stop please stop_

Panic surged through her as she kept spitting all of that blood, pinching her nose in hope of stopping the nosebleed.

But it didn't help at all.

"Nesta, let me help you," said the idiot responsible for all of this.

Nesta didn't have it in her to snarl as he kneeled in front of her, gently removing her hands from her face and replacing them with his. His thumb and index finger squeezed her nose, agony rippling through her face, and helped her lie with her head on his thigh.

The sight of so much blood made her nauseous and panicked. She never had a nosebleed, let alone a freaking broken nose, and it was so out of nowhere that it... she didn't...

"Calm down, you're alright, it's stopping. It's going to be okay."

Although his voice was firm and steady, probably meant to reassure her, Nesta didn't miss the horror and fear shining in those hazel eyes. Oh, she was going to kill him for this, accident or no.

But first...

"Nesta?"

The taste and smell and sight of blood was too much, the pain too intense, darkness creeping in from the corners of her vision. Cassian's voice sounded more urgent, then downright scared as he yelled for "that damned nurse to get her ass here faster". Before she could call him a foul name for ruining her perfect morning, Nesta blacked out.

* * *

 

Cassian was completely, irreversibly and thoroughly fucked.

And not in the good way.

Pacing in front of the nurse's office and outright snarling at those who tried to sneak a peek at the girl currently unconscious inside, he cursed and damned himself to hell and back. Even though it was an honest mistake and had absolutely no idea that Nesta was reading under that tree, Cassian was feeling guiltier than ever and deserved the hell she would surely unleash upon him.

Though that might take some time, since she was still knocked out. His hands started shaking -- either from fear of what he did or what Nesta was going to do to him for that kick.

His whole team swore when the ball collided with her breathtaking face. Even he winced when Nesta realised what just happened, then downright gasped when blood started flowing from her crushed nose. It took him just a few seconds to get to her side and behold the mess he created.

Holy crap, he was as good as dead.

Cassian's heart nearly gave out when the nurse stepped out of her office and stopped dead in her tracks when he got into her face, demanding answers about Nesta. She gave his bloody white t-shirt a pointed look, making a tsk-ing sound.

"She's starting to get around to it, though the blood loss will make her dizzy for some time. Her nose isn't ruined, which will probably be the first thing she'll ask when she wakes up, but it will hurt pretty bad for a week or so. Where are her sisters? They should be here."

Cassian's stomach lurched at the thought of Feyre and Elain finding out about his deed. Feyre, who even tried -- and failed -- to set them up once would undoubtedly kick his ass, but he was hoping that Rhys might interfere before any serious harm could be done. As for Elain...

That sweet, innocent façade didn't work on him anymore. He's seen too much, knew too much during their years of high school. His fear wasn't misplaced.

He was already carrion.

"Rhysand went to get them," he replied. "Can I see her?"

The nurse nodded, jerking her head towards the door. Cassian was already stepping inside when the nurse yelled "Don't annoy her too much, one broken nose is enough for today!"

It would be a blessing if Cassian got out with only a broken nose.

Slowly shutting the door, Cassian looked at the sleeping figure on the bed and every thought in his head whisked away. Despite the bandaged nose and the purple bruise around it, Nesta looked fine. Almost peaceful.

He dared to approach the bed and sit on the small stool beside it. God, why did it have to be her?

Cassian wasn't sure if he was referring to the kick or the fact that he had such a massive crush on this girl. Feyre's sixth sense wasn't mistaken; Cassian did like Nesta. At first it was mostly because of her appearance, because good God, those sinful curves and exquisite features looked infinitely better when she looked ready to kill him. It wasn't a secret that Cassian wanted to sleep with her -- it was pretty obvious. But during his attempts to "charm" her, he caught a glimpse of who she really was, how her mind worked and what brought her joy, and was instantly hooked. It shouldn't even surprise him that she was ditching a class just to read one of her fantasy novels. It certainly wasn't the first time.

So there he was, watching her like a starstruck puppy, fingers itching to brush her hair out of her face, to hold her hand and make sure that she knew she wasn't alone...

Until she opened her eyes and Cassin almost jumped out of his skin.

* * *

 

Blinking until she could make out the face of the person standing next to her, Nesta almost groaned.

"You're a dead man walking," she snarled. "Just wait until I'm out of this bed, Cassian."

"I'm so, so, so sorry for what happened, Nesta," he blabbered, ignoring her idle threat. "I swear it was an accident. I had no idea you were there!"

"How convenient," she mumbled under her breath.

"You know I would never do something like this, annoying as you may be."

Nesta threw him a look that made him shut his windpipe.

"You're not really helping your case, you know?"

"I swear I'll make it up to you. I won't tease you or play pranks on you for as long as you want."

"Now that sounds promising."

"I'll even let you braid my hair and wear it for the final game of the season."

At that, Nesta grinned widely, although her whole face barked in pain at the sudden movement. Cassian winced, reaching for a glass of water.

"What?"

"Your teeth are covered in dried blood," he replied with a guilty smile, then proceeded to give Nesta the glass. "I don't know if that makes you look scarier or hotter."

"I don't know why you're allowed to walk freely and without supervision or a leash."

"Oh, sweetheart, we both know you're the one that holds the leash," Cassian winked. "Pretty tight, if I may say."

"Trying to charm your way out of this, Cass? I'm not some teacher you can flatter with a few compliments so you can avoid doing homework."

Nesta stood up from the bed and walked towards the sink, ignoring the black spots dancing before her eyes. Passing out once was enough -- no need to repeat it twice on the same day.

Cassian was on his feet instantly, waiting behind her as if she would fall any second and he'd need to catch her. His instincts weren't wrong, and the concern shining on his face didn't seem at all false, but Nesta's pride was by far stronger than any of those.

After she rinsed her mouth, Nesta dared to look at herself in the mirror hanging above the sink.

And immediately wish she didn't.

More so, she wished Cassian wasn't there to see her like this.

Face all puffed up, eyes red and a purple bruise surrounding her bandaged nose, Nesta looked like she just got trampled by a hoard of elephants. She leaned closer, squinting her eyes at her reflexion.

Were those...

Yes, those were leaves in her hair. Holy crap.

"I..." she half-turned, more aware of her appearance then ever. "You should probably go. Cutting class won't look good on your record."

Cassian took a tentative step towards her, furrowing his eyebrows.

"As if I care about any of that," he replied. "What is it? I know saying sorry won't make up for what I did, and I hate myself for this, I truly do, but I meant it when I said that I'd make it up to you."

This wasn't the Cassian she got to see very often. Cassian, the life of every party, the soul of his soccer team, the jocker who loved getting on her nerves and flirt shamelessly in the most inopportune times. Or the Cassian who protected his friends at any cost, who stood up for the weak ones and made the best out of any situation, no matter how tense they were.

This one... this side of him wasn't something she was accustomed to. She was always too caught-off guard by the other to bother to find out if there was  
more.

And she sure as hell didn't expect to see it under such dire circumstances.

"I know you didn't mean to, Cassian. I'm aware of the fact that I can drive people crazy, but I don't think you reached that point yet. At least I hope so."

The frown on his face deepened as he took another step towards her.

"Of course not," he breathed. "But what's the matter, then?"

"I look like a zombie and I'd very much like not to be seen in this state," she mumbled, striding towards the bed. "Too many people already did."

And you have a tendency to make me nervous.

"I think you look fierce," Cassian said cheekily.

She sat down tentatively, frowning at her blood-specked shirt and trousers. Perhaps Feyre or Elain had some spare clothes in their lockers that she could borrow.

"I got my nose broken by a ball. You can hardly call this fierce."

"Everything about you is fierce, sweetheart," he drawled, crossing his hands over his broad chest, white shirt bloody as well. "Why else would I like you, Nesta?"

Her eyes shot up to him, mouth a bit agape at his direct words. It wasn't the first time he said something like this, but it was always accompanied by a cocky smile or more innuendos.

Truth be told, this wasn't what bothered her. Not in the least.

"Going down that road again, Cassian?"

"What road?"

"The road where you throw a few words and compliments my way in order to... what is it, these days? Bed me, prove to yourself that you can win over any girl? Or is it some sort of bet with your teammates? You know, it never passed my mind before, but now that I think of it..."

Nesta clicked her tongue and rested her sore back against the cold wall, legs half-dangling in the air. All amusement and worry were gone from Cassian's face, who was now radiating a quiet sort of rage. The sort that sent quivers down her spine.

Okay, she had to admit. She was blaming him a bit for her broken nose.

And for toying with her, for not taking into consideration what she might actually think or feel about his advances. How it was just a game to him. A cruel sort of game.

She never dared to voice these thoughts, especially not to him, because telling him this implied that she cared enough to bring it up. Perhaps the dizziness clouded her mind as well.

"You truly think that low of me?" he said in a low, almost grave voice.

Nesta blinked in confusion.

"That I'm merely playing with you? Or trying to get in your pants?"

"You always--"

"I always _what_?" he snapped. "I always make inappropriate comments and tease you? Yes, I do. Do I sometimes push you out of your comfort zone or anger you? Quite possibly. Do I try to sit with you during lunch when you have your nose buried in a book and forget to eat, or pass you notes during class when you look distraught or sad? Again, yes. Do I want to spend time with you whenever I come by your house with the guys because I know you don't like to be alone as much as you claim? Indeed. Do I say or do anything to stop you whenever you're lashing at me with words, which is probably the only way to express your anger, even though I'm not the cause of it? No, because I know you need to let it all out and refuse to even consider the idea of training with me. Do I trail after you at parties that Feyre and Rhys host because I know how much you hate crowds and want to distract you? Damn right."

The knot in her throat made it impossible for Nesta to speak, although there were no words left to convey the painful tightening of her chest.

"Do you even know how many of the guys in my team would like nothing more than to nail you and gloat about it afterwards? I can tell you for sure that some of them wanted to try just that at one or two of those parties, but because I know you, Nesta Archeron, more than you probably know or would like, I stuck around because you don't want that sort of attention or advances. Certainly not from a drunken jock who would try to coerce you into doing something you don't want to do. And do you honestly think that I like being treated as one of them, as your punching bag, when all I ever wanted was to make sure you're alright and safe? That you don't feel left out or alone?"

Tears were brimming in the corner of her vision, falling one after another on her flushed cheeks.

Gone was her anger for having her nose broken.

Gone was her bravado and the disinterested mask.

Gone was her annoyance for every time Cassian did or said something to set her off.

Gone was the pain that she craved so much right now, anything but this sort of pain.

This, she couldn't take it.

She didn't know how to.

"It started out as infatuation, yes. I'm not denying that I wanted to have sex with you. But I didn't plan to fall for you, Nesta, just to get my heart stomped on."

There was such fury and pain on his face, yet the words were the ones that undid her from within. Blow after blow, Nesta stood there like a statue and took it all, watching him through tears like it was the first time she was seeing him.

In a way, it was. Nesta was finally seeing Cassian for who he was, the anger he hid, and the guilt caused by it was enough to bring her to her knees.

She didn't have the nerve or force to call after him when he stood up and left the nurse's office without any further words. There probably wasn't anything else to say.

Curling on her side on the rumpled bed, Nesta cried harder than she ever did. And didn't think she'd have the courage to get out of that bed anytime soon.

_You did this. You did this. You hurt him._

And for that, Nesta deserved all the loneliness and pain in the world.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Four days later, Cassian was a mess.

Falling into an endless cycle of training, running around the town and even getting into a few brawls with his brothers wasn't enough to take the edge off, but merely dull it. He was grateful that neither Az nor Rhys asked any questions besides "Does it have anything to do with Nesta?", then proceeded to annoy him enough to throw a few punches. Both of them were out now, Rhys probably with Feyre and Azriel... Sometimes he wondered where he lurked off to. He had a flair for mystery, it seemed.

He skipped school the first two days, showing up only for practice, then went straight home and drowned his sorrow in a marathon of Star Wars and a sugar binge. The third day, Cassian woke up before dawn, showered and went to school, burying down his fear of bumping into Nesta in the halls. The fact that she didn't even call or text him didn't phase him at all. Did she even have his number saved in her phone?

Call it good luck or misfortune, but Nesta didn't show up, either. Nor the following day. He had half a mind to ask Feyre or Elain about her, but judging by their wary glances during their classes and lunch break told him enough. They knew what happened after he broke her nose.

While the credits of Episode II played in the background and then the famous introduction of the next movie began, Cassian fidgeted with a pen, staring distantly at the rain outside. Friday night, and he was spending it moping in his bedroom. What an unfortunate turn of events.

There was no point in taking back what he'd said that day, or even let the slightest pang of guilt cloud his mind.

And yet...

Every time Cassian closed his eyes, he could see the tears streaming down her face as he almost shouted in her face everything he swore he'd never tell her. The look of utter shock and misery when he admitted that he sometimes felt like a punching bag to her. Her distant cries ringing in his ears as soon as he left the room, leaving her on her own.

Everything Cassian said was true. But what he implied, the tone he used, the rage that threatened to suck his soul dry... Those weren't real. Cassian didn't despise Nesta. Not in the least.

But now there was no taking it back. And he hated himself for feeling so damn disappointed and heartbroken.

* * *

How easy it was to be the sort of person who had no drama in her life besides that of her characters', to spend her weekends cooped up in her bed, watching TV shows and reading until she could no longer see straight.

Jesus, Nesta missed those times dearly.

Especially now, when she was walking in the pouring rain, clothes completely soaked and probably a dead phone. It didn't occur to her that during a 20-minutes-walk a damn storm could occur.

It seemed like fate had a funny sense of humour these days.

Nesta walked faster and faster, trying not to slip into puddles or break any more bones. Her sore nose was enough, however the swelling went down. She barely noticed it during her first days of sorrow after the incident.

And by incident she didn't mean the broken nose -- no, she meant Cassian's angry torrent of words that stuck in the back of her mind, haunting her day and night, each time breaking more of her soul. Crying was what she did the first day. By the second, Nesta slipped into a state of perpetual desolation and isolation that not even her favourite books or movies could pull her from. Her sisters tried to talk to her, comfort her, but she didn't have it in her to talk about it. She just accepted their shoulders to cry upon and their presence that made things a little better.

Two blocks away from her destination. The dark streets were empty, the rain chilling her bones until she could no longer feel her limbs. As Nesta got closer to the house, she could no longer discern if she was feeling miserable or nervous or angry. She had more than enough time to contemplate on that, but now it was all just a ginormous pile of messy feelings. And she was going to show him exactly that.

Stomping on the driveway of the house Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian shared -- owned by Rhysand's mother, yet they were all foster brothers -- Nesta ignored the notch in her stomach and walked to the front door.

Now was not the time to back down.

So what if she made a fool of herself? What if Cassian chose to shut the door in her face and not even give her the chance to speak? What if it will break her a little bit more if he turned her away?

Not doing it was far more worse.

So Nesta gathered whatever scraps of courage she could muster, lifted her hand and knocked.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

Nothing. Absolute silence from inside.

Nesta wiped the raindrops from her brow, almost pacing on the porch. He had to be home. Both Rhysand and Azriel were out, their mom was working, Rhysand's sister was with her friend--

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard steps coming from upstairs, making his way towards the front door.

Holy shit. She was actually going to go through with this.

When he reached the first floor, Nesta stopped breathing. A few steps away from the door, then his hand was turning the doorknob, slowly opening to door to see who was the crazy person bothering him at such a late hour.

Oh for fuck's sake, she was going to pass out again.

All rational thoughts left her mind as soon as Nesta beheld Cassian on the threshold, hair half-pulled into a messy bun, a tired look on his stubble-covered face and red-rimmed eyes, and almost burst into tears once again. His irritation shifted into surprise, mouth open as if to say something, but no words came out.

This was her fault.

"I-I..." Nesta stammered, forgetting what she repeated a dozen times in her head on her way here. Damn it, this wasn't going well. "I-I know you probably don't want to see me, and I don't blame you. I don't even want to see myself right now, and not only because I'm soaked and spent the past days in bed. But you left and gave me no chance to say anything."

Not that she had anything to say back then, but there was no reason to let him know that.

Cassian lifted his eyebrows, leaning on the threshold.

"I don't think of you as a punching bag or a mindless jock. I don't look down on you or find your presence annoying, even if I say otherwise. The things I said, how I acted..." Nesta took a shaky breath, not at all prepared for what she was about to admit. "I feel overwhelmed by you. And not in a suffocating way, but in a _I-can't-keep-up-with-you_ or _I'm-not-worthy-enough_ type of way. Every time you're around me or talking to me, I swear to God that I can't act like a normal person because I don't know how! You claim that you hate how I treat you. But have you ever wonder how you make me feel, Cassian? Yes, I feel better whenever you're around. Yes, your presence brings me comfort, but I'll be damned if I know why. But you also make me feel important whenever you're flirting with me or saying that you like me, even if it sounds like a joke whenever you're saying it. Even if you laugh it off a second later and something else catches your attention, and that importance vanishes. Because how can you ever truly mean it, Cass? How can I believe that you're thinking about it as much as I do, and then reach the same conclusion as me: it will never be more than this. Even if I'm not this cold, brooding person, even if I know I care so damn much about everything and everyone and it messes with mind, even if I know that I'm better than what everyone else thinks of me! And do you think it doesn't bother me in the least that I can't fit in easily with the others? That they think I'm weird for loving things they don't understand and that I keep to myself because of this? How out of place I feel at parties, when everyone has someone and they're having fun and I'm missing it all out because everyone already finds me odd? How humiliated I feel when they mock me or laugh at me? I despise it, yes, and you already know all of these things. Yet you never treated me like them. Not even once."

Cassian stood there like a statue, not daring to interrupt her. Good, because if she stopped, she didn't think she could start talking again.

"It's so much easier with fictional characters and relationships, because you get to see from everyone's perspective. You know what the other feels and you don't doubt their love or loyalty or honesty. But in real life, in situations like this... How can I know that for sure? How can I tell what you actually mean?"

Nesta was ranting like a mad person. She didn't even have time to properly breathe.

Before a wide-eyed Cassian could have a chance to interfere, Nesta kept on ranting:

"This isn't a love confession. I know I like you. It was never a secret I kept from myself, something dark and terrible that I locked away. This is me apologising for not knowing how to act despite my feelings and for hurting you. For implying something that I never thought of being true and for lashing out at you so much. But I do it because... because I know you understand, and that you see me. Even though you have the right to be angry at me, and I deserve all that you said at school. I'm sorry for not being good with people, especially with you. And that I let my stupid emotions ruin everything. I never meant to be like this."

Choking back a sob that threatened to set her off again, Nesta made to turn around and go back home. She already said too much, and her chest and head were hurting so bad from trying so hard not to cry again in front of him.

This was it. This was all she had to say, all her reasons and fears.

And she was relieved that she had given them voice for the first time in her life.

Before she could take a step, a warm hand wrapped around her wrist, turning her back.

Cassian didn't say a word as he looked at her with tears in his eyes, mirroring her own, and engulfed her in a tight embrace that knocked the air out of her lungs.

Slowly, as if in a trance, Nesta wrapped her shaking arms around him, squeezing her eyes shut as she embraced him right back.

"You're brave and strong and wonderful, Nesta. I know you care, and I know that it's not easy for you to put yourself out there. And you are so much more than simply enough. You mean the world to me."

Nesta bit her lip in order to keep herself from sobbing, letting her tears fall silently on his now damped short, enjoying his warmth.

"I'm sorry for getting so angry at you," he whispered, dragging his fingers through her wet hair. "I wish I knew before how you felt."

"Please don't apologise. You did nothing wrong. I'm the one at fault in all of this."

Pulling back enough to look at him was harder than she wanted to admit. No trail of pain lingered on his face; only regret and something she couldn't quite name.

"I just hope you know that you mean so much to me, and that you know hurting you is the last thing I wanted to do. Especially if it brings you in this state," she said jokingly through her tears, running a finger over his rough cheek.

Cassian leaned into her touch, a small smile arching his lips. Not the haughty or brazen one, but one so soft and warm that it was hard not to hug him again and never let go.

"What can I say? You do have an effect on me," he replied, then looked down at her, smile vanishing. "You walked all the way here? Through the rain? Where's your car?"

"Feyre has it. And yes, I did. I barely noticed the rain since I was thinking about what I was about to do."

Cassian shook his head in disbelief, then took her hand in his and pulled her inside the house. The place was familiar, even though she rarely visited it, big enough for a numerous family and filled with objects they all loved: pictures, books, trophies, gifts, entire collections of movies (especially Disney ones, which were invaluable to more than one of the people in this house -- that, she knew for sure). It was their childhood's home, and one they obviously loved dearly.

Cassian shut the door behind her and helped her take off her jacket as she slipped out of her soaked boots. She was going to have some hellish cramps in the morning.

"Come on, you're taking a shower. I can almost hear your teeth clattering in your mouth."

"Where is everyone?"

Nesta regretted is as soon as the question left her mouth, partially because it made Cassian grin, partially because it implied she wanted to be sure there were no witnesses around. Which was completely true, of course.

"Rhys is with your sister, as you probably already know," he explained, gesturing towards the stairs. Nesta went first. "Azriel is... Honestly, I have no idea where he is. Mom's at work and Selene is at a sleepover. I was actually in a pretty bad mood until you arrived."

"Glad to know my presence managed to lift your spirits."

"Can't deny that. Now go and take a shower before you get hypothermia and die. I had enough moping these days, no need to add to it."

Nesta didn't hide her smile as she strode into his bathroom and took her time with showering. It was a miracle she could still move her toes after they had been almost frozen in her wet socks.

Not that it hadn't been worth it.

* * *

Nesta emerged from the bathroom in clean, cozy clothes. The pants belonged to Selene, warm and fuzzy, and the large t-shirt was no doubt one of Cassian's. He managed to slip them in while she was showering without catching her attention; probably because he knew she'd bite his head off for it.

Cassian was half-sprawled on his enormous bed, the TV playing silently in the background. Nesta had never been in his room before and didn't expect it to be so... so him, yet so unlike him. An entire bookcase filled with countless novels, some classics, other graphic ones and comics. Posters with his favourite bands and movies lined each walls, along with a couple of pictures of his family. The desk was overflowing with notebooks scribbled pages, the computer frozen on yet another movie that he probably got bored watching. Aside from the occasional random clothes and weights thrown around, Cassian's room reminded her of her own.

Noticing her standing there, Cassian glanced at her and propped himself on his elbows, muscles straining. Damn.

"I suppose you don't have any plans, right?"

Nesta raised an eyebrow. "My plan was to come here, which I did."

"I'll take that as a no, although I very much appreciate the effort."

Cassian moved on the other side of the bed, patting the empty space with one hand.

"Watch Star Wars with me," he said.

"Now?"

"No, tomorrow," he rolled his eyes. "Yes, now. I know you love it just as much as I do, so don't even try and find an excuse. Plus, I don't want to be alone on a Friday night. I want to spend it with you."

If only to hide her blush, Nesta pivoted on her heels and turned off all the lights except one of the lamps, then walked towards the bed.

"I also have enough sugar to give you diabetes."

"Now we're talking," she grinned, climbing into the bed beside him.

Nesta loved Star Wars. She loved the drama that started just from one family and how it shifted the entire galaxy. But she especially loved Anakin and Padme's relationship, although that ship went down in flames. Quite literally.

Neither of them barely said a word for the first half hour, Nesta all bundled up in warm blankets and switching from chocolate to chips and then back to cookies until she could no longer eat. Cassian watched her like she was an alien, claiming that her blood sugar would skyrocket soon enough.

When she pointed out that with all the blood loss she lost it wouldn't be a problem, Cassian clamped his mouth shut, earning a laugh from her.  
  
As usual, the ending of Episode III managed to bring her to tears, which she didn't bother to hide as they both watched the death of Anakin Skywalker and rebirth as Darth Vader. Cassian squeezed her hand when her pathetic sniffling turned loud (because her nose still hurt like a bitch) and smiled like the dork he was when she rested her head on his shoulder. One could assume that was the reason behind his bright smile, because who found burned bodies and deaths amusing?

"You're still crying, even though you know how their story ends?" Cassian asked, brushing his thumb over her exposed palm in a soothing gesture.

Nesta shrugged. "It may sound silly, but I always hope it won't end like this. In my head, they got their happy ending."

"You never struck me as the type of person who is a sucker for happy ending."

"Cassian, my favourite method of self-harm is watching movies like Titanic and P.S.: I love you. That says enough."

Cassian's laugh was the contagious kind of laugh; deep and lively and so warm that it made her laugh, too. His was always the loudest in a crowd, the most enticing one that could melt your heart. It sure did with hers.

"Then I'll make sure to send you as many references about sad movies as I can whenever you're in one of your bitter moods," he chuckled, bumping slightly into her. "See how long it takes until you break my nose."

Nesta looked up at him, and although it was quite dark, she could see that his hardened features turned soft, his eyes showed no proof of sulking and seemed content to be there with her.

"You know I wouldn't break your nose. That's too mild."

His eyes snapped to her in an instant.

"What else would you break, then?"

With a conspirator's grin, Nesta made a show of picking at her nails.

"Hmm, I don't know. Something that would measure up to the emotional turmoil you would put me through by sending me references to those movies"

The grin vanished when Cassian leaned on her shoulder, his hair tingling her neck.

"As long as you don't break my heart, I'll survive."

Bloody hell. Cassian may not be a writer, but he did sure have a way with words.

Not knowing how to convey the tightness in her chest through words, Nesta did it in the only way that she could -- through her actions. So she snuggled closer to him, resting her head against his own and intertwining their fingers, finding his so much warmer than hers.

"Do you mind if I stay here tonight?"

"Of course not," was his reply. "I know you love my company."

His tone was teasing, but his other hand managed to find her free one and cupped it in his own, no doubt sensing just how cold they were. A flu was the last thing she needed.

"Actually, I love your bed. It's very comfortable."

"Liar," he snickered.

"I mean it. I like it enough that perhaps I'll kick you out of it just so I can have it all to myself."

"You'd better not try, because I'm not moving from this spot until tomorrow morning. Might as well get comfortable, sweetheart."

The credits of the movie started rolling in, the theme song playing in the background. Nesta absentmindedly played with a lock of Cassian's messy hair, pondering of all that's happened in just one single day.

When she woke up that morning, swearing at the skies for the sunlight that disturbed her fitful sleep, Nesta could barely muster the energy to get out of her bed.

Now she was in bed with Cassian and feeling like she could breathe again.

Wrapping her arms around him as best as she could and burying her face in the crook of his neck, Nesta pulled Cassian into another embrace, just as tight as his was. How easy it could be to have him around her, how light she felt, yet how hard and fast her heart was beating. How difficult it made for her to leash all her untamed emotions.

"What's wrong?" Cassian asked, though his arms surrounded her instantly, running his hands up and down her stiff back. "Sweetheart, tell me."

"It's nothing," she murmured. "I'm just... glad."

"Of?"

"Of you not turning me away when I showed up at your door."

"You thought I'd do that?"

"A part of me thought that you would, after all I've done. And I wouldn't have blamed you. But a small part of me hoped that you wouldn't."

Warm lips pressed against her forehead. Nesta almost shuddered at the chaste yet intimate gesture, at his hands that held her so close to him.

"I'll never turn you away. No matter what happens, I'll always be here for you."

"And I for you." she said back, dragging her fingernails on the skin of his neck. "Now play Episode IV because I need to see some badass female action."

Laughing, Cassian searched around him for the TV remote and played the next Star Wars movie. Nesta gave no indication of wanting to part from him, so he simply laid back on the bed and she followed suit, nestling against his side, all limbs tangled. It was difficult for her not to fall asleep when she was in such a comfortable position, but she willed herself to stay awake just a little bit longer.

Just a bit longer, because when Cassian thought she fell asleep and pulled the covers higher, them proceeded to kiss the top of her head again, Nesta's stomach turned molten.

"Thank God I broke your nose," he whispered, still unaware that she was wide awake and biting her lip to keep from laughing.

Nesta couldn't agree more.

* * *

Rhysand didn't know what to make of what he saw in his brother's bedroom. Nothing could have prepared him for beholding his girlfriend's older, grumpier sister, Nesta, in the arms of Cassian, sleeping soundly. Even though it was barely past dawn and there wasn't much light outside, Rhysand saw that they were both fully dressed and refrained from sighing in relief. The last thing he wanted was to tell Feyre that these two were having sex.

And yet, how could he explain... whatever this was? What was even happening here?

Cassian's face was serene, arms draped over Nesta's body even while he slept. Nesta was half on top of him, with her head on his chest, face hidden behind her wavy hair. Too bad. He really wanted to see if her nose was at least crooked a bit.

They all knew that these two got into a fight after Cassian unintentionally broke Nesta's nose during practice, although from what he knew, it wasn't because of that, which confused the hell out of him. Cassian's mood had been worse than ever, brooding all the time and snapping at everyone for nothing. It got bad enough that fighting with him turned out to be better than letting him sort it out on his own.

Nesta didn't do better, either. Feyre kept pestering him with questions about Cassian, trying to figure out what was the reason behind their argument, because Nesta wouldn't talk to her about it. Cassian didn't, either. Strong-headed, the both of them. Better suited for each other than they might think.

Before Rhysand shut the door to his brother's bedroom and went to sleep, he made sure to take a photo of the two of them cuddling. It would make the perfect Christmas gift for the both of them.

And he would also need proof to show Feyre that he was right -- they would give in sooner than she anticipated.

Feyre didn't think anything would happen until spring break or later.

Rhysand gave them until Christmas, which was still three weeks away.

Grinning all the way to his room, Rhysand couldn't wait to demand his prize: an entire weekend in the cabin of his family with Feyre, far away from anyone who could hear them and with a strict policy of no clothes.

Thanks to the two of them finally admitting what everyone else already knew, Rhysand had something wonderful to look forward to.

 

 


End file.
